


the mark of cain

by ninata



Category: Persona 4
Genre: Anal Sex, Dark Comedy, Friends With Benefits, M/M, Manipulation, Read notes for more warnings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-05
Updated: 2015-10-05
Packaged: 2018-04-24 22:18:12
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,574
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4937365
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ninata/pseuds/ninata
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"If you do well, will not your countenance be lifted up? And if you do not do well, sin is crouching at the door; and its desire is for you, but you must master it." (Genesis, 4:7)</p>
            </blockquote>





	the mark of cain

**Author's Note:**

> this fic contains a lot of:  
> -rape mentions/elements, but nothing nonconsensual will happen in this.  
> -semi-graphic mentions of death/murder (and those concepts being fetishized)  
> -abusive speech towards just about everything  
> -homophobic language (no slurs though)  
> enjoy, i guess? or kill me

This world has always been a pathetic place. Not because of any special reason, not because you ever had your mother killed or raped or tortured. Not because anyone did anything other than shirk your advances and sneer at you. Not because of anything particularly terrible, but because its monotony was unbearable!

You were really supposed to do something amazing. _“You have potential,”_ they’d say, _“You’re gonna do something great.”_ Hell, maybe you believed it. You thought you’d do something cool. The older you got, though, the less likely that seemed.

Of course you get bored. And if you’re bored, you play a game. It’s just that simple. Any schoolchild will tell you that, anybody with half a brain would agree.

Today, as you look in the mirror, that mark is there again. Right between your eyebrows, a little black dot. You had the nerve to ask Dojima-san about it once, but he looked at you like you were crazy.

Maybe you are! That’ll be great, maybe if you get caught you can use that as a defense. _“I see a dot on my forehead,”_ You’ll say, with tears in your eyes. _“And it made me want to kill people, I guess.”_ And everyone will think it’s very sad, and you’ll be acquitted.

Right? Hahahaha. What a fucking laugh.

You wash your hands in the sink, beads of water clinging to the razor you set by the faucet. Your reflection is you, that shadow you hear the kids talking about. He seems friendly. You should invite him for a drink sometime. Hands swipe a toothbrush up and a tube of toothpaste is popped open. Spill its guts onto the bristles. _“Oh noooo, my guts.”_ You can hear it crying (but not really).

Boy, this world is so fucking boring. Screaming toothpaste even seems entertaining.

Brush brush. Gotta get that taste out of your mouth. You’d think you’d be used to it by now, having had this go on for as long as it has, but it’s still terrible. Oh, but that’s what makes it fun! If everything in life was tasty, it’d get boring, too.

You freeze up as you hear the shifting of sheets. Hoo, boy. Here it comes. You give that man with the dead eyes and the mark one last look before everything brightens. Muster up the dumbest, most shit-eating smile you have. Brush brush brush.

“Adachi…?”

His voice is a croak in the morning. It’s hard not to laugh, but maybe a little chuckle will be in character. You poke your head out the door, Dojima-san sitting in your futon in his socks.

“Morning!” You sing, which seems to irritate him. That’s good. It’s fun being a morning person! It’s fun making Dojima-san want to kill you. Or maybe pound you to dust? Whatever he’s in the mood for. “Didja sleep well? You sure were snoring.”

“...What time is it?”

“Seven thirty--” You check the clock hanging on your bathroom wall. “Eight! Why? You got places to be? It’s Sunday, sir. Take it easy.”

“Don’t call me sir when we’re like this.”

“But _sir_ \-- Oops!” You give him your best apologetic grin. “Dojima-san! It’s just weird. You’re my superior, after all…”

“Adachi, all I’m asking is you drop the sir. Can you just...do that.”

“Sure, I guess…” You rinse out your toothbrush and set it aside, walking back out.

“...You’re still naked?”

You scratch the back of your head, giving a shy response. “Well, I didn’t know if when you woke up, you’d want to…”

The best part is this makes him blush. If you play up that sheepish, demure, _womanly_ aspect, it drives him nuts. Give him enough of that and he’ll eat out of your hand. He really is impossibly heterosexual...but it’s not like you’re any different. You’re just here to make him squirm.

He stays silent, turning his head aside and putting his hand over his mouth.

“...What? Do you want to do it again?” You ask, walking closer, stifling a smirk. He steals a glance, his hand dropping to his side, and then turns his head back to face you. While being coy is fun, it doesn’t always get you what you want, does it? No, of course not. Plus, seeing him get all embarrassed _does_ kind of turn you on. “You’re too much, sometimes.”

You plop next to him, lying back. He just gives you this look, something like a glare, anger or desire or lust or something. You know it well by now. He gets on top of you, his hand trailing down your body.

He knows what makes you feel good. At least he’s good for that. Failure of a detective, can’t even tell the ‘partner’ that he’s fucking is the one causing the case he’s investigating. It makes you smile, how incompetent he is, how ridiculously stupid he is. How he thinks you’re the idiot. He fondles your balls with one hand, jacking you off with all the grace of a washed up widower. You chew on your lip.

You remember when you were assigned to work with him, how much you fucking despised the guy from the start. How all he wanted was to find his wife’s killer. You bet his wife was a bitch. You bet she wasn’t as fun as you are. You remember the first time you sucked him off, back seat of his cruiser. He wouldn’t look at you in the eye for a week. You remember when he asked you to do it again. How it became routine, sneaking around and fucking behind everyone’s backs. Tying off condoms and throwing them in another detective’s office’s garbage. Man, did he get in trouble. (Dojima-san told you not to do it ever again.)

He pulls his hands away, but you’ve been ready for a while. Why tell him when he’s doing his best? He opens the bottle of lube he had used last night when he pushed you up against a wall and left hand-shaped bruises on your hips. Applies it liberally to his fingers.

“I’m putting one in.”

“Yessir!”

He looks about ready to strangle you. Oh, but you can’t help it! It’s too funny! You wonder if he knows you’re doing it on purpose. It’s hard to stay cutesy when you get excited. Your charming sarcasm takes over.

One finger goes in. You put a hand on his shoulder, leverage or something. Stare at your ceiling. It’s tough work, sitting here and letting someone poke around inside you.

“...You can go faster, you know.” You can almost hear him blushing.

“Yeah. Okay.”

Two fingers, in and out, stretching your poor exit into an entrance. At least, you think it’s two-- it’s hard to tell. It doesn’t feel like much. After a few moments, you can definitely feel another go in, so you’ll assume that’s three. He wouldn’t go over.

You look back at him and his face is flushed, watching his hand. Gross. You put your other hand in his hair, which draws his attention to you. Eye contact always makes him pissed, but you’re disappointed by the lack of reaction this time. He just stares at you, fingering you the whole time. Maybe he’s still half asleep.

He hits your prostate and your vision blanks out. You think you arch your back, an involuntary motion, gasping out and hissing a breath as he pulls his fingers out.

You measure your breathing again.

Man, you hate that. Hate those moments where you don’t know what you’re doing. That’s the worst part of taking it up the ass-- not something as stupid as being embarrassed. You just...hate that lapse in control. You keep your grip on him, watching as he puts on a condom and spreads lube over his dick.

It’s a little insulting that you can get it up for some crusty old detective, but hey, everyone has weird kinks they don’t like admitting. Dojima-san’s is, apparently, younger men who piss him off. Lucky for him, yours is whoever will be the most fun to piss off.

The first time you wanted to fuck him? ...Well, it just seemed like it’d be interesting. It’s been pretty amusing since then, hasn’t it? One day you looked at him, this man who’d probably drank four cups of coffee that day and was ordering you around, and thought, _well, damn._ _What if I got into his pants?_ Your life had been pretty disappointing as of late, getting stationed in Inaba. It wasn’t too wrong to want to experiment.

The head of his dick is against you. He looks for confirmation and you give it. As he presses in, you squeeze your eyes shut. This part sucks, too. The initial dick introduction. Whatever you wanna call it. Your vision is already a little hazy, you try to get as much air as you can while you’re still conscious of it.

When you first had anal sex, it was kind of just like, well, fuck it, y’know? Where else was this all gonna go. You were eventually going to take it up the ass. Dojima-san’s way too bossy to let you do it to him. Maybe for the better, you’re not sure if you’d slip too much if you were given that power over him...ow. Ow, jeesh. Attention back to the man in question, who’s all the way in. One of his hands is on your thigh, pushing it back. No idea where the other is. Somewhere.

“Tell me,” He whispers in your ear (holy fuck, when did he get there?), “When you’re ready.”

You decide to let him suffer for a bit. “G-Give me, a second,” You choke out, holding tighter, trying not to laugh. Man, they should pay you for this. You’re an incredible actor, why didn’t you do that instead of join the police? Or maybe Dojima-san’s just an idiot.

You’re kinda hungry. Man, if all you get to eat for breakfast is his cum, you’re gonna have a shit day. That was dinner last night. Bastard’s gonna ruin your health. How will you explain that to a doctor? _“Sorry, doc. Been sucking too much dick.” “Well, Adachi-san, your intestines are blocked up with semen, and you’re going to die.”_ Cue the laugh track!

You SHOULD be an actor. That’s pretty funny.

Actually, it would be pretty cool to top Dojima-san. Rough him up a bit. These days, all you can think about is wringing the life right out of him. Imagine that; _Local Detective, Ryoutaro Dojima, was found dead today. He was stripped naked, hanging from a telephone pole, and traces of semen were found in his rectum, throat, and nasal cavity. He appears to have died mid orgasm, a look of bliss on his features. Possibly the sickest murder yet in this series of mysterious deaths of people Tohru Adachi wanted to fuck._

Oh, man. Wait. What if you threw him in the TV?

...No, no. No, that’s way too suspicious. You’d get found out immediately. Or maybe not, head detective on the case was offed. Hmmmm. You’ll think about it. If he gets too annoying. He _is_ the only one you came onto that didn’t shirk your advances like a skank.

You give him a squeeze. “Alright. Go ahead.”

He starts to move. It’s finally feeling good again, and you just can’t help it if your nails dig into his shoulder a little bit too much, if you take a fistful of his hair and hold fast. Your leg hooks around him, probably. For the record, Dojima-san is a shithead, but he’s not too bad at this. Just took him a bit of practice. It’s not like you’re a woman, here. Oh-- nice, nice, he’s, hitting the spot. That’s good. But shit if he isn’t too slow.

“Faster,” The man needs to take a hint. “Fas-- Yes, yes, oh _God_ \--”

Vaguely you can hear the sound of skin slapping skin. Always a laugh. Oh, man-- wait, are you laughing? Damn, you need to stop that. You sound like a lunatic. _Laugh, yes, laugh, yes, God, yes, laugh laugh, harder_. Same thing as always. He asked why, once! You just shrugged.

This world is so fucking boring, isn’t it? Isn’t it? Real fucking bullshit, this world. This world is just shitty. This whole fucking place. Thank God Dojima-san fucks you, or else there’d be a REAL goddamn murder case on everybody’s hands. Those kids would be dead, real dead. Man, you could get off to that.

You wonder if Dojima-san sees you, like, as a woman or something, and you’re chortling. Chortling? That’s, a word. That’s so goddamn hilarious! What do you see him as? Fucking, a fuck. A fuck buddy, and he’s, really, really going at it. He’s goddamn, _relentless_ this morning. Like the flu. Or you. You’re relentless! Unrelenting. You’re gonna kill everybody in Inaba, fuck this whole world up real good.

Everything keeps going white. He keeps hitting that spot and it’s great! You say something to that effect. His shoulder feels wet. You must be scratching it up again--

He grabs your face and kisses you.

Something in your head registers that this is different, that this doesn’t happen. That you’ve never kissed him, he’s never kissed you, it was just a thing that didn’t happen because it shouldn’t. That’s a rule, between you.

He tastes like cigarettes and coffee. He grunts against your lips when he isn’t busy kissing you, but you’re too preoccupied to care right now. He never pulls back for anything but breath, never never. Never never. Oh God, this is so weeeeird! Hahaha. Dojima-san’s a fucking homo. Ffffuck.

Man, when was the last time you actually, kissed, person? Lips. When? You don’t, know. It’s SO hard to think. He’s a funny guy. You’d laugh more but he’s, just kissing you, so much. His face is fucking scratchy.

“A, Adach, Adachi, I’m going, to, I’m, I-I’m coming--”

And he comes before you do, riding it out liiiike a goddamn piece of shit. But man, he’s just, slamming right in there, you’re laughing so hard, wow! This is so, so weird, this is so weird, you’re, you’re going, at this rate, is he kissing your neck?, holy fucking shit, this is so weird! This is so nasty! This is so weird!

You’re busting your gut laughing as you climax, dragging your nails hard down his back, yanking his hair as if you were actually trying to make him angry. But man, it just, it just, feels, felt so,

soooo.

 _Good_.

Take a breather.

You open your eyes, your ceiling coming into focus gradually.

He lies on top of you, his face next to yours, and then he brings your lips back together. It’s starting to hit you that this is super, super fucking weird.

“D-Dojima-san, wait, wait…”

He keeps kissing you, the selfish prick. Oh, whatever. He pulls out-- damn, fucking feels weird-- fumbling with the condom and tossing it aside. You’re gonna have to throw that out later.

“Adachi,” He says, and to continue adding weird things on top of weird things, he says it all soft, which is more like how he says his wife’s name by accident sometimes. That’s not good. “T...T-Tohru. Just shut up for a second.” Oh, no. What the fuck!? What the Hell is that?! Did he...seriously?!

The weird pile is balancing precariously. You feel like you’re going to scream, very quietly, because if you wake up your neighbors again you’re gonna get kicked out of your apartment. What is this?! He’s kissing you! He’s calling you by your first name! You’d like to stress that this has never happened, not once! Not any of the times you fucked, not any of the times you blew him, not any of the times you jacked each other off or anything. It was business! It was like business. He’s making it personal. What is he trying to do? Is he trying to catch you off guard?! Christ, maybe he’s onto you and this is some kind of screwed up test. Your brain isn’t working too great right now. You’ll just...lie here until he gives up and goes home.

“...Tohru.”

Oh no. Oh God, if his words are, _“Why were you at the Amagi Inn on the night of Mayumi’s murder,”_ you’re officially shoving him in the television. No regrets. He can die or that Narukami kid can go find his naked uncle in Whereverland while Nanako-chan cries.

“Tohru, I’m…” He props himself up a bit. You’re terrified, but you meet his gaze. “I think I’m in love with you.”

…

…

_Oh?_

Oh.

You just…

…

You stare at him for a good long while as his face twists around from each ashamed expression to the next. This...the weird just toppled over.

“Um,” You finally get out. “Okay.”

That, of course, is not the response he was looking for. His mouth opens and closes a few times and then he’s off you, tripping over himself to get out of your room.

“Wait-- Dojima-san! Dojima-san, you--”

His back is painted with red. Yikes! Well, you reap what you sow. You sit up with a bit of effort, he just pulls on his pants and shirt, gathering up whatever else and sprinting to the door.

“Dojima-san!” You yell again. The back of his shirt is starting to stain. You can see his underwear still laying on the ground. But the door opens, shuts, and he’s gone.

You stare.

What...kind of fucked up joke is this? _Dojima-san?_ In _love_ with you? What, are you really that good of a fuck? Jesus! You…

You just lay back down.

What is this...You’re supposed to be destroying him, here! But that was so honest. Man… Dojima-san...likes guys?

That wasn’t the kind of _“I love you”_ you get in the soaps when the wife is talking to her husband that beats the tar out of her. That was...embarrassing to watch, really. He was trying so hard. You feel a little nauseous. And also hungry. If you’re trying to fuck him up, you’ve only succeeded in turning him gay.

...Well, this could work. Maybe.

You wobble to your feet.

The trek to your bathroom seems treacherous, but you get there after a long battle with the ache in your lower body. You’ll go ahead and wash off this mess. It’s all over your front...your cum, you mean. And your hand is all bloody.

No, this isn’t bad. It isn’t! It’s going to be awkward, of course...you’re going to have to switch from the role of the sultry friend-with-benefits to the...lover. Oh, _gross_. That’s hard to think about. But Dojima-san isn’t that hard to kiss, right? He’s good with sex, and he never suspects a thing. But what if he takes you on a _date?_ A date with Dojima-san? That’ll be something, alright. If he tries to make you one of his family, it’s into the TV he goes.

This is sickening.

But...y’know. Won’t it be all the more fun? When this whole world starts tearing itself apart, when the fog floods in and the monsters come out… and when you’re there, standing in all of it, the only one of these morons who knows what he’s doing… won’t it be so much better when he realizes it was you?

Yeah, that’s it. Imagine that face-- that distraught face, that betrayal in his eyes. It’ll be sweet, taking that away from him. Spitting in his face, rubbing it in the dirt. Not only does his wife die, but even his little gay fling turns sour, and his boytoy is here to bring about a new world order! Something like that. You can tell him you’ll let him live if he sucks your dick hard enough. Haha. Maybe if he lets you take him the way you want to, maybe if he begs for it. Hahaha! Oh boy, Dojima-san on his knees, pleading for you not to kill everybody while you pull him apart. Maybe he’ll cry! Aha! Hahahahaha!

...Oh, boy, are you getting excited already? Not yet, little Tohru.

When you look in the mirror, it’s him, again-- it’s you. You let a smile spread across your lips, watch your eyes gleam an almost gold. You’re the kind of man who takes what he wants-- you do what you want, and you’re tired of any kind of consequence. At the beginning of all this, you were different; doubting, guilty, afraid, vomiting when they found Mayumi's body... But once you pushed in that little high school slut, it’s all gotten clearer. You’re something better, now. You’re brighter, you’re shining, and you’re more than every one of these shitty little pricks. Narukami, his friends, all your coworkers, all the people of Inaba, Dojima-san...them and the rest of the world are going to get what’s coming to them. All that superficiality, that fake bullshit, it’s all coming back to bite them. They’ll pay for their ordinary lives, they’ll pay for their apathy and their rudeness...They’ll pay. You’ll see to it.

This world is going down the drain. You’re here to stomp it down the rest of the way. Crying won’t save them. Praying won’t save them. Nothing will. Not anymore.

Your fingers touch your mirror, gazing into that perfection reflection, and when you focus, it’s almost like that mark has gotten darker.

**Author's Note:**

> i am a Terrible Person for writing this and liking this ship  
> i want to apologize for this but it was fun. writing adachi is fun. "i hate persona 4," i say, reading all the doujinshi i can find online. "the persona series has gone to shit," as i write this goddamn fic  
> naoya would be disappointed. anyway, thanks for the read!


End file.
